


Poker Face

by TrulyMightyPotato



Series: Royal Flush [17]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: MatPat discovers secrets, and despite the date this is published on this is absolutely serious, he is SadPat, realizes some things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 23:38:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyMightyPotato/pseuds/TrulyMightyPotato
Summary: MatPat, driven to desperation, finally opens Gar's journal to look for clues.





	Poker Face

The office was too quiet these days.

MatPat sighed, staring at the empty desk in his office. His own name tag stared back at him.

He leaned back in Gar's seat, frowning.

This wasn't the first time he'd been alone in the office. After Jason had died, it had been almost five months before Gar had arrived and taken the other desk.

MatPat ran his hands over the desk in front of him, the familiar grooves in the wood serving as a small comfort.

This used to be his desk. The one with his name card on it now had been Jason's. He hadn't been able to bear the thought of seeing Gar in Jason's chair day after day.

And now it just served as a reminder that both of the desks had had one of their owners just....

MatPat sighed, standing and walking to Gar’s journal, where he’d placed it on his desk.

Both Jason and Gar were gone.

With Jason, at least, he’d had the knowledge that he was dead. He’d gone to Jason’s funeral, he’d seen his body multiple times, he’d gotten the report on Jason’s autopsy—he knew Jason was dead.

Gar, though...

MatPat knew  _ nothing _ . Gar had just disappeared. He was supposed to have gone to the speakeasy, but he never did show up. Everyone he asked said he left to pick up Officer Static on his way over, so Static could go help deal with the mob fight going on, and  _ Static _ had arrived safely, so... what had happened?

MatPat bit his lip, then nodded. He could avoid reading Gar’s journal for at least another few hours.

Static might not remember anything new from the first time MatPat had questioned him, but he might recall  _ something,  _ and that was all MatPat needed.

\-----

MatPat found Static emerging from the temporary chief’s office, looking a bit thoughtful. Then he noticed MatPat and seemed to freeze a bit.

“Hello, Patrick,” Static said.

“Hello, Static,” MatPat said. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Uh,” Static shifted slightly, like he’d really rather not, but nodded. “Yeah, sure. What about?”

“I’m just... looking for clues, I guess.” MatPat rubbed the back of his head, ignoring the fact it was making his already messy hair even messier. “You were the last person to see Gar.”

Static froze again, a distant look in his eyes, as if thinking about that fateful night.

“Ah.”

“Is there anything more you can remember from that night?”

Static sighed and slowly shook his head, not really looking MatPat in the eye.

“I- no, not really. Like I told you before—like I told everyone before—he picked me up on the motorcycle then got off a couple blocks from the place that fire went down, and I kept going to where I was needed.” He shifted his weight to his other foot. “To be honest, I wasn’t in the best headspace, didn’t pay attention to much else. It took that officer questioning me nearly a week later before I realized he’d been missing.”

“Is everything okay?”

Static sighed again.

“Things could be worse.” He frowned. “I take it you haven’t had much luck finding Gar, then.”

“I was hoping you’d remember something that might help,” MatPat admitted. “Thanks anyway.”

“Yeah, sorry. I can’t help much.” Static paused, clearly hesitating, then shook his head. “Actually, and I don’t know how helpful this will be, but...” He sighed. “As I rode off, there was a gunshot in the area. I thought it was part of the mob fight, but... maybe not?”

“Well, there was evidence of an injury at the scene.” MatPat frowned. “Thank you, though.”

“Of course.”

MatPat headed back to the office, still frowning. So Gar had gotten shot, then; or at least that was most likely what had happened to him. Considering things had fallen out of his pockets—like his journal, sitting on the desk—he hadn’t been attacked by a mugger.

Had he been attacked by multiple people? Had they wanted  _ Gar, _ and not anything he had to offer? Obviously whoever had taken him had wanted him alive, and since he hadn’t shown up dead anywhere, it was probably not too out there to assume he was  _ still _ alive.

But… nobody had given either Gar’s father or the precinct a ransom statement. That meant whoever took him weren’t using him as any kind of bait or leverage.

And that; that was worrying.

MatPat tapped his fingers on his desk again, then walked over and picked up Gar’s journal.

The bloodstain on the cover was still there, and MatPat couldn’t help but run his fingers over it.

It was undeniable. Gar had lost a lot of blood. And if what Static had said meant anything, Gar had been shot. 

Had he been sniped? It would explain the lack of signs of a struggle. But then there were the three people who had dragged Gar away. Four people in total? Why would anyone use four people in total to get ahold of Gar?

Mir wouldn’t send that many people to get a young, in-training detective, no matter how much he wanted him. 

Did Mir not have Gar, then? Surely Mir would have given some kind of hint that he had Gar, even if it was just taunting MatPat. But nothing had happened. That just... didn’t eem like Mir.

But if that was the case, then MatPat really had no idea where Gar was.

The more he thought about it, the less likely… 

No. No, MatPat had to believe Gar was alive. Possibly broken in body, mind, and soul, but as long as he was alive, MatPat could find him.

MatPat sat on the desk, turning Gar’s journal over in his hands.

Yes, what he was about to do was a massive breach of privacy. Yes, he was the one who’d lectured Gar about trust, and there was no way Gar would trust him if he walked in the office this moment and saw him doing this. 

Yes, there was the possibility that whatever MatPat found in the pages of this journal could save Gar’s life—and whatever of his body and mind was left intact by this point in time.

And that much outweighed the negatives.

So he settled more comfortably on the edge of the desk and began to read.

By the time the light outside had been reduced to that of the nearby street lamps, MatPat was constantly frowning at the things he was reading. There wasn't anything obvious; nothing standing out to suggest sworn enemies, or anything. No, there was just  _ something _ about what Gar wrote in his journal, or  _ how _ he wrote it, that was nagging at the back of MatPat's head.

The feeling just got worse the more MatPat read, and he slowed his pace, picking out odd phrasings and strange wordings. Some places, Gar had written something and then scribbled it into illegibility, completely hiding what he'd written in the first place.

And then, very suddenly, in an entry somewhere around June, a single sentence just about stopped MatPat's heart.

_ “I hope Matthew doesn't find out.” _

MatPat blinked at it, then blinked again and stared.

That was the first big reference to Gar hiding something.

MatPat read the entire paragraph again.

_ “It’s so weird to hear everyone joking about it. Sure, I’ve gotten used to it by now, but… have none of them even bothered to  _ _ look _ _ at the evidence and put it together? They just joke about it. They joke about it, and the file of ‘Faceless’ crimes grows every week, regardless of involvement. I just… I hope Matthew doesn’t find out. If he found out they’d pull me in a heartbeat.” _

MatPat squinted at the ink, at the familiar handwriting.

How hadn’t he noticed the mention of Faceless before?

MatPat frowned, leaning back in his seat and tapping the paper. Did Gar think the Faceless were real and not just a joke?

It would explain why he was so taken aback the first time he heard someone make a Faceless joke. MatPat had thought Gar was just surprised at the term ‘Faceless,’ but… if he thought they were real, of course he’d be surprised.

Why would he think they were real, though?

For that matter, it was a joke among the officers and detectives—it wasn’t something they joked about around civilians. How had Gar known about it before joining?

Unless-

No.

MatPat shook his head. That was impossible. Faceless… they didn’t exist.

His gaze landed on a line in that paragraph again:  _ “Sure, I’ve gotten used to it by now, but… have none of them even bothered to  _ _ look _ _ at the evidence and put it together?” _

Did-

No.

Surely not.

MatPat got up and started pacing.

It was impossible, wasn’t it? Faceless were a joke, nothing more, a result of explaining away crimes that couldn’t be solved.

A part of his brain naggled, and he sighed before shaking his head. Now that he was starting to doubt it… he had to consider that Faceless actually existed. It wasn’t voluntary or anything, but if he didn’t put at least decent thought into it he’d never get anything done.

If, by some way, there was a giant underground crime syndicate where its members wore full-faced masks to hide their identities, surely MatPat would have met one of the Faceless by now. At the very least, seen a glimpse of a mask in an alley or something when he was out and about late at night.  _ Halloween night,  _ surely he would have gotten a  _ glimpse,  _ the tiniest  _ iota _ of a hint that they were real.

Surely.

Surely such a hypothetical group would have people undercover in places, if for no other reason than to keep tabs on groups like the police and government and other mobs, or to get rid of evidence for cases to keep them from… being… solved. No,  _ surely _ someone like that would have been found.

Well, no, the logical part of his brain pointed out. They uncovered moles in the precinct all the time, when someone wasn’t careful enough to cover their tracks or was betrayed by someone or something. If one was careful, it wouldn’t be impossible to remain unfound.

That was-

Faceless existed?

There was no question in his mind to that, not anymore. There were too many unsolved cases, too much missing evidence for those cases, too many coincidences to just brush off.

_ “I hope Matthew doesn’t find out.” _

The line rang in MatPat’s mind, and he turned to stare at Gar’s journal.

No.

Impossible.

_ “If he found out they’d pull me in a heartbeat.” _

_ No. _

MatPat gaped at the journal, stumbling a bit as his mind struggled to comprehend yet another world changing revelation.

Gar-

_ Gar was Faceless? _

With that one thought, everything just seemed to  _ snap _ into place.

The way he was surprised and uncomfortable about the Faceless jokes, of course. The way he seemed to think the law wasn’t always right. How quickly he’d picked up skills like the self-defense all officers were required to know. How he and Static had gotten into his house after Stephanie had been kidnapped.  _ Why Mir would be after him. _

Gar-

Gar, his cheerful, thoughtful-yet-impulsive friend.

Gar, who had never hesitated to defend MatPat, from either the badmouthing of other officers, or from very physical threats.

Gar, who adored seeing the best in people, and always believed someone could improve themselves.

Gar, who had risked  _ death _ Halloween night to keep MatPat and Static safe, even though it meant fracturing the trust between them—trust Gar must have needed very desperately if he wanted to remain unknown and undiscovered.

Gar, who-

MatPat’s back hit the wall and he slid down gasping and fighting back tears.

Gar, who had been  _ yelled _ at and  _ berated _ for not listening to MatPat, who had been accused of not being trustworthy and just  _ taken it _ —he’d known the entire time that he was keeping this secret from MatPat, known he-

MatPat buried his head in his arms and choked back the sob. The journal slid out of his grasp, and gently hit the floor.

Gar had to have known MatPat would figure it out sooner or later, he had to have known- MatPat would have felt betrayed- he had to have thought MatPat wouldn’t trust him if he found out.

Gar, who had done  _ so much _ for MatPat-

MatPat curled up, his shoulders shaking, and he cried.


End file.
